


Things Unremembered

by daftalchemist



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Sex, Eldritch Abomination Cecil, Episode 33 tie-in, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Potential Spoilers, Some angst, Tentacles, feels tho, not much, super cute nerds in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftalchemist/pseuds/daftalchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil is understandably upset by his mysterious past, but has no reason to fear for his mysterious future</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things Unremembered

**Author's Note:**

> beta thanks to tumblr user anadultcatwhowontcauseproblems

He wasn’t at home, which was worrying because he should have been home by now. He wasn’t at the station either, which was even more concerning because there were few things that could upset Cecil enough to leave work and not come immediately home when he knew Carlos was waiting, and he _was_ waiting. A box of cassette tapes was apparently one of those few things, and Carlos couldn’t blame him. It’d been...disturbing, to say the least. He probably should have assumed there wasn’t anything good on them when Cecil had first become obsessed, but he’d just chalked it up to his need to thoroughly investigate everything, including his own life. But now this…

Carlos knew where Cecil was, of course. He knew all of the places Cecil went to after dealing with strong emotional stimuli. If an intern died, he’d be at the Ralph’s. If he suffered a run in with Station Management, he’d immediately head to Arby’s. And if he dealt with something so traumatizing that his mind couldn’t properly handle it, he’d be sitting on the boardwalk of the harbor, gazing at the lights from the town reflected in the night sky, and he _was_ sitting there.

The night air was chilly this time of year, and even more-so at the harbor, where the breeze was inexplicably blowing in cold off of the water that didn’t actually exist. Cecil wouldn’t admit to being cold, but Carlos knew he most certainly was, so he slipped his labcoat over his shoulders and sat down next to him, staring at the stars in silence. Cecil rested his head on Carlos’ shoulder and said nothing, and Carlos put his arm around Cecil’s waist and pulled him closer.

“You should talk to me,” Carlos said at length, the silence becoming too much to handle in the vast emptiness of the desert night. “You had me worried.”

Cecil pulled the labcoat tighter around himself and cleared his throat with a dry croak, as though he’d been silent for so long that his body had forgotten how it felt to form words. “I’m sorry.”

Carlos sighed and buried his nose in Cecil’s hair. “I’m not looking for an apology, querido.” He kissed his temple. “I just want to know that you’re okay.”

Cecil inhaled deeply as he nodded. “Well, I’m not, so...I’m sorry.”

Carlos threaded his fingers through Cecil’s hair and massaged softly at his scalp, concerned when Cecil didn’t return the action with his usual purring, and chewed his lower lip nervously. “Is it that you don’t remember? Is that what’s bothering you?”

Cecil exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Carlos continued. “Because something happened to you and...well, it sounded pretty _bad_ , and...aren’t you concerned? Don’t you want to know what happened to you?”

“Nothing happened to me,” he responded, his voice strained, “because that wasn’t me.”

Carlos blinked in confusion. “But, Cecil…”

“ _That wasn’t me_ ,” he insisted, turning to face the scientist, and Carlos’ felt a strong pang of concern well up in his chest when he saw how red and raw Cecil’s eyes looked. “That naive little fool _wasn’t_ me. Going around taking things so nonchalantly, not realizing the _seriousness_ of the constant danger, probably getting himself nearly killed--most likely more than once!--and just acting so...so…”

“Foolish?” Carlos supplied and Cecil groaned in irritation. “But...you _were_ just a kid.”

“I am the only me that matters!” Cecil shouted, his breathing becoming erratic. “Nothing changes that! Especially not some... _idiot_ with a tape recorder who may or may not have gotten himself killed!”

Carlos stroked Cecil’s cheek, attempting to soothe him. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t _care_!” he bellowed, brushing away Carlos’ touch and staring at the wooden planks of the boardwalk beneath him. “I’ll _never_ care. It doesn’t matter; why don’t you understand that?” He sniffled and pulled his knees to his chest. “Why do _you_ care? Why is it so important?”

Carlos wrapped his arms around him and pulled him gently into his lap, cradling him as he wiped the tears from his eyes. “Because it’s your past, querido. It matters. It’s who you were, and it affects who you are too.”

He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. It’s done and gone and there’s no need to think about it. It’s brought me nothing, and I don’t care.”

Carlos smiled and cooed, “It brought you to me though.”

“Then it brought me _one_ good thing, but the rest is worthless and should be forgotten!”

“ _Cecil_ ,” Carlos chided softly, “why is this bothering you so much? Why did you destroy the tape? It could have answered all the questions about your childhood, you know.”

Cecil chewed at his lower lip anxiously for a moment, lost in thoughts that didn’t seem entirely pleasant, if the tears streaking lazily down his cheeks were any indication. “What if it’s terrible?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, “ he inhaled deeply, attempting to steady his shaking voice, “what if something terrible happened? What if I’m _not_ the same person? What if...what if I’m so much worse?”

“Cecil…” Carlos began, a soft smile playing across his lips.

Cecil pushed his shirt sleeve up, revealing tattoos warping in grotesque displays of cracking skulls and bloated hearts beating so erratically that they looked like they might burst.

“You’ve seen this,” he said, and his eyes blackened. “And this. And the...the _tentacles_ , and...did that boy sound like he was dealing with _any_ of this? He was just...he was _normal_ , and...and _where did this come from_?”

Carlos smoothed back Cecil’s hair and gave him a weak smile. “I don’t know, querido, but...it doesn’t seem terrible.”

“But what if it _is_?” he continued. “What if it’s dark and horrible and...what if you don’t like it? What if it frightens you? What if...you don’t like me?”

Carlos chuckled, doubly so when Cecil’s eyes widened in disbelief at what he must have assumed was his boyfriend not taking his fears seriously.

“I think you need to give me more credit,” he said, smiling warmly. “You think understanding why you’re as wonderful as you are would make me _dislike_ you?” He grinned even wider as Cecil flushed soft violet. “Why don’t you leave the heavy thinking to me, Cecil? I _am_ the scientist in the relationship, after all.”

Cecil all but sobbed, somewhere between a desperate need to impress his fears on Carlos, and overwhelming relief. “But I could be a _monster_.”

“Cecil, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you already _are_ one,” Carlos replied. “And I already love you for it.”

Cecil buried his face in his hands, but not before Carlos could catch a glimpse of how deep a purple he’d turned. “You’re _completely_ missing my point.”

“No,” Carlos replied, laying Cecil on the boardwalk, the labcoat putting a layer between him and the chilled wood, and straddling him. “ _You’re_ refusing to listen to _my_ point.”

Cecil whined and struggled half-heartedly against him, his cheeks still a vibrant purple. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Proving my point,” he responded, unbuttoning the cardigan Cecil had taken to wearing now that the temperature had been going down, and pushing up his t-shirt. The tattoos were still twisting in ugly fits of bleeding eyes and twisting sinews, but everywhere Carlos touched became a bloom of colorful flowers, as though he were painting his love onto Cecil’s chest. He leaned in and kissed his stomach, and a violent burst of color spread from it. “You’re right. I _have_ seen these, many times, and I’ve always loved the way you literally wear your emotions on your sleeves.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Cecil groaned, playfully pushing Carlos’ head away. “Puns are _not_ the way to my heart.”

Carlos grinned and ran his hands up Cecil’s chest, thumbing at his nipples. “Yes they are.”

Cecil shivered and blushed, unable to stop himself from smiling softly, just a little. “Yeah, they are.”

Carlos pressed his lips against Cecil’s, loving the way the radio host sighed into it, parting his lips in invitation for what he already knew Carlos would do next. Carlos kissed him slowly, deeply, savoring the taste of him right up until he felt the sharp pinch of even sharper teeth, and he was tasting the metallic tang of his own blood insead. He’d never admit to it, but he enjoyed that too. It had become such a common occurrence during their kisses that he could only associate the taste with pleasurable things now.

He pulled away and licked the blood from his lip, and Cecil’s eyes darkened almost on cue; constricted violet pupils swimming in an ocean of pitch black. Carlos smiled and pressed his thumb against Cecil’s lips, pushing them gently out of the way to reveal the razor sharp teeth beneath them. Cecil averted his gaze, most likely in embarrassment, and fidgeted uncomfortably.

“I’ve seen these too,” Carlos said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Cecil’s mouth for effect, “and I love them as well, no matter how uncomfortable you are about using them on me.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” Cecil replied with a soft whine, and Carlos smiled because, yes, his boyfriend was a bit of a monster, but he was incredibly adorable too.

“But you _won’t_. Don’t you get it?” he asked, rolling his hips against Cecil’s and delighting in the soft moan it dragged from his boyfriend’s lips. “You’re not as terrible as you’re afraid you are.”

Cecil pouted. “But I _am_ terrible?”

“Oh god, you’re _dreadful_ ,” Carlos answered with a smile, grinding his hips down again. “But I _like_ you that way.” He pressed soft kisses to Cecil’s cheek. “You’re _my_ terrible monster boyfriend, and that’s how I want it to be, no matter what caused it to be like this.”

Cecil covered his mouth with his hands, but wasn’t able to hide the fact that he was smiling, not from Carlos. Two tentacles slipped up from his sides and wound around Carlos’ waist, hugging him close. “Are you sure?”

“ _God_ yes,” Carlos said and rolled his hips against Cecil’s once more, feeling his tendrils beginning to squirm against the fabric separating him from Carlos’ own half-erect cock. “You’re weird and wonderful and _perfect_...and you’re not opposed to sex in public, right?”

Cecil bit his lower lip and wiggled happily under Carlos. “It’s one of the few things I haven’t received a citation for yet, but...I suppose I’m willing to fix that.”

“I’m so glad to hear it,” Carlos grinned as he positioned himself between Cecil’s legs and unfastened his pants. “Because I wasn’t looking forward to waiting until we got home. I’ve already been waiting all night.”

Cecil grinned sheepishly as he kicked off his loafers and lifted his hips so Carlos could more easily remove his slacks. “I’m sorry.”

Carlos tossed the slacks to the side and gently combed his fingers through Cecil’s tendrils, smiling at his breathy moan. “Don’t apologize. You don’t ever have to apologize for things like this.”

Cecil nodded as he bit his lip, sharp teeth drawing pinpricks of purple blood. Carlos pulled his hand away to undo his own pants, drawing out his half-erect cock as Cecil whimpered at the lack of contact.

“Don’t be so impatient,” Carlos chuckled, and slid his dick into the mass of writhing tendrils with a sigh. “Don’t you _want_ me to be ready for you?”

Cecil nodded furiously before he threw his head back with a gasp, grabbing handfuls of the labcoat beneath him, and Carlos smiled as the tattoos on his chest burst in colorful arrays of anatomically correct beating hearts and fluttering butterflies. Carlos wrapped his hand around the tendrils lavishing affection on him and thrust into them, his own soft moan drowned out by Cecil’s choked sob. He pressed his other hand against Cecil’s stomach, watching as the tattoos that surrounded it spiraled outwards in a complex paisley pattern, like ripples on water.

“You’re so beautiful,” Carlos breathed, and pulled Cecil’s hips into his lap, lining himself up with his entrance and pressing in slowly as the radio host shuddered and whined, arching his back off of the boardwalk and grasping at the air, needing to grab hold of something, to anchor himself in the moment. Carlos grabbed one hand with his own, twining their fingers together as he firmly gripped Cecil’s hip with the other and thrust into him. Cecil wrapped his legs around Carlos with a moan as two more tentacles slipped eagerly from his back and wrapped around him as well, pulling him closer, deeper into Cecil. Carlos chuckled.

“Calm down, querido,” he grinned as he continued to thrust softly. “Just _feel_ me.”

“Can’t,” Cecil whined, squeezing Carlos’ hand and waist. “Want _all_ of you.”

“You already have all of me, Cecil,” Carlos grinned and thrust harder, loving the way Cecil threw his head back and cried out, arched his back so violently off the ground. His tendrils squirmed anxiously over themselves, dripping dark liquid down his stomach and chest in obscene rivulets. Carlos pulled his hand away from Cecil’s to stroke them, loving the way they wrapped around his fingers, how Cecil’s pleasured cries grew louder, his breathing more desperate and erratic.

Carlos moaned deep in his throat as Cecil tightened around him, so close to coming completely undone. He grasped the tendrils more firmly, tugging them in long strokes in time with each roll of his hips, threading them through his fingers. Multiple eyes flew open on Cecil’s forehead as he gasped “ _Carlos_ ” over and over, reaching out for him, wanting more.

“I’ve got you, querido,” Carlos said in as soothing a tone as his heavy breathing would allow, and raised himself up onto his knees, bracing a hand against Cecil’s chest to fuck him harder. Cecil thrashed and wailed, tightening violently around Carlos as he came, inky black liquid running down his chest and neck in horrific streams, and it was gorgeous-- _everything_ about Cecil was gorgeous--and Carlos came with a shout, thrusting raggedly into him as Cecil’s body milked his orgasm out of him.

Carlos lowered Cecil back down against the boardwalk as he pulled out of him and immediately wrapped himself around the panting radio host, smoothing back his sweat-slick hair and pressing soft kisses to his cheek. “Do you feel better now?”

Cecil chuckled and stroked Carlos’ cheek. “It wasn’t my _body_ that felt bad, but...yeah, I do. Just…” He sighed and his smile faded. “Are you really okay with this? With me?”

“Cecil, I knew you were weird before I learned you’d _ever_ been normal.” Carlos smiled. “So, yes. I’m still as okay with it as I’ve always been, and always will be.”

The soft violet tinge in Cecil’s cheeks made his smile all the more adorable, and Carlos kissed him. “Would you like to go home and smash some mirrors?”

Cecil’s smile grew much wider, and his eyes shined. “I think I would enjoy that very much.”


End file.
